Soul and Bones
by Era Yachi
Summary: Brook will do anything for the sake of his crew. Some days it's easy being the musician...while others it wears him right down to the bone. A series of oneshots about Brook, each featuring a different Straw Hat member.
1. Closeness

**AN:** Each of these one-shots will feature one of the Straw Hats interacting with Brook. Some of them will be fluffy and cute, some funny, and others painful or dramatic. Some will be long, some with be short. If anyone has a request for which character to co-star next, just let me know. I've got idea for all of 'em. Or just let me know if you enjoyed them. Or just leave me a skull joke. I love skull jokes.

Oh, also, no romantic pairings, unless someone desperately requests it.

'Gamble!' will be continued; however, if I don't write these as they come to me, I'm gonna be blocked for weeks.

* * *

_Chapter One: Closeness_

_Timeline: Pre-timeskip_

_Mostly features: Chopper, Brook_

_Warnings: Some emotional hurt, and overload of adorableness.  
_

* * *

Robin noticed something about Brook that her other nakama did not.

Perhaps it was because of them all, she was most familiar with the importance of a simple touch. The sense of touch was vital to human beings. It was the most base form of closeness that friends could share, so it did not surprise her at all that her nakama enjoyed being near each other.

This was evident everywhere. Luffy and Usopp wrestling over the ownership of a fishing pole, Chopper falling asleep in Zoro's lap during a thunderstorm, or Nami happily hugging Franky after he upgraded the lock on the bathroom (an issue with Luffy's sleepwalking, she heard). No one gave second thought to how something as simple as human contact could be misconstrued or taken for granted.

Brook was well loved. There was no reason to doubt this, especially when his music brought them so much joy.

It was inevitable in many ways, since he was, after all, just a skeleton. She recalled the first time she had placed her hands on him during the fight with Oz—even the slightest brush against the cold, skeletal hand created involuntary shivers. In the month or so after boarding the Sunny, he had not once been hugged, or wrestled, or piled on the same way Luffy and the others shared. It was entirely within his nature, too; Brook was technically three times her age, yet his childish behaviour was only rivaled by Luffy's.

Naturally, their captain wouldn't think anything odd about Brook being a skeleton. If the musician had not been intentionally avoiding them, Luffy would have eventually dragged him into a play fight.

But she was not just worried for the sake of their musician. Her faith in him was untarnished. She believed he was an experienced social buffoon, with plenty of patience to allow the crew to grow used to his oddities. The nakama Robin truly worried about was Chopper.

The tender-hearted doctor had been especially sensitive to rifts between crew mates since Usopp-kun had fought Luffy. He was so determined to patch up the slightest hint of fissure, so much so that he began to see things that were not there.

She knew Chopper had also noticed the lack of closeness between Brook and his other nakama. What she didn't know, was that he had been falling whirlpool of misunderstanding that would nearly break his heart.

* * *

Chopper hadn't meant it. He had a nightmare.

It was a windy night and it was raining; he'd woken up yelling at the top of his lungs, the images of horror still fresh in his mind. He'd really thought he was being attacked by zombie reindeer and monsters and giant, faceless skeletons with swords shaped liked antlers. Later on, he was very embarrassed about it, and felt terrible. But at the time, it was just another really horrible nightmare.

Crying and bawling for help, he'd woken the entire men's side of the ship, except for Zoro. He didn't know what happened, really, only that Brook was the first one at his side (he'd learned later that he'd never fallen asleep in the first place). As soon as Chopper saw his nakama, he didn't realize he'd even woken up from his dream.

"No! Get away! _There's a skeleton trying to kill me_!"

Though Brook had no expression, Chopper knew that Brook's flinch backwards meant that he was surprised and hurt. Usopp pushed past the musician and calmed Chopper down with his experienced skill in distractions. Luffy came to investigate and laughed with an immense grin at the ordeal; he called him a little chicken, albeit affectionately. Sanji had given the skeleton a long, sorry glance and Chopper, still sniffling, bubbled an apology once things settled down.

Brook just brushed it off with 'Yohoho' and regaled the time when he had scared himself to death (though he was already dead!) the first time he looked at a mirror.

Chopper blushed with embarrassment.

What he didn't know, was that he had just planted a seed of doubt inside himself that would shortly grow into a monstrous tree.

* * *

It was another day on the Thousand Sunny, and tensions were extremely high. Chopper sensed it in everyone, especially between Zoro and Sanji. Nami was in a really bad mood, too.

They were stuck in calm waters and the wind wasn't picking up. The heat was really bad, too, and no fish were biting. That meant Sanji worried about their food supply and fresh water, while Zoro found training to be difficult in the sweltering humidity. On top of that, their navigator was convinced that it was somehow her fault when the ship became stuck in bad weather conditions. Franky was even a little grumpy due to the fact their fuel had dried up. It seemed the only two who weren't completely unhappy were Luffy and Brook.

Then Nami got into an argument with Zoro.

The fight was about who got the watch shift that night. Zoro wanted to use that time for training, when it would be cooler. That broke Nami's carefully arranged schedule. Insults were flying by the time Luffy tried to intervene, and the captain ended up getting clobbered on the head for his futile effort.

They all knew Brook couldn't resist trying to cheer them up. The one thing he could not possibly stand other than complete silence, was hurtful and angry words between nakama.

It ended with Nami shouting at Brook to shut up, and then the quarreling pair had each gone their separate ways. Hours later, she returned to apologize to the entire crew and the tension lifted, but their musician didn't attempt to liven the mood with another song. Additionally, Sanji was still livid at Zoro for yelling at Nami.

Chopper wanted to say something to his nakama, but he was afraid he would get yelled at, too. It hadn't seemed fair to Brook that he get in trouble for being a good nakama. Luffy always got hit by Nami when she was angry, but that didn't matter to his captain. What if...what if Brook thought that he wasn't needed here?

What he didn't know, was later that evening, Brook had volunteered to take the night watch in exchange for his morning shift. He'd gone to Zoro in person, and done so with bright laughter and a cheerful skull joke. Even the dark mood of the swordsman couldn't survive that.

The dark mood inside Chopper, however, was still growing.

* * *

The day following the incident with Nami, Chopper stayed inside to mix medicines and reorganize his medical supply cabinet. Every new island and community added new ingredients to his stash, and pretty soon he knew he'd have to ask Franky for somewhere else to store them.

It was tedious work. Once, Usopp came by to give him a hand and a little company, but he was soon called back out by their captain (who demanded a fishing contest). Chopper told them he wasn't feeling well, and didn't want to join them. Being alone again gave him lots of time to broil in his own thoughts about yesterday's problem.

Brook still hadn't played his violin, not since Nami yelled at him. No one asked him to go fishing, and worst of all, he hadn't shown up to sleep in the men's quarters. _No_, that wasn't the worst of it all! The absolutely worst thing was that his nakama weren't doing anything about it!

He fumed all day, because he felt helpless.

Eventually, the sun went down. Chopper was just finishing up when he realized he was missing a few water bottles. He climbed down his stool and went to the kitchen, hoping to find Sanji still awake so that he could ask to borrow some of his bottles. Just outside the door, his ears twitched at the sound of two familiar voices

"We can't just tell Luffy to get rid of it," growled Zoro's voice through the wooden door. Chopper froze.

"Tch, but if you'd been awake for once, you could have stopped him from adding it to our crew in the first place. He listens to you," Sanji replied, sounding darker than usual. A lance of horror shot through the young reindeer's heart. The cook went on. "It keeps upsetting Nami-swan. Plus its eyes are creepy as hell. I don't want it going near my ladies when they're trying to have a pleasant evening."

"Stop whining, curly cook. Next time Luffy's distracted, just toss it overboard. Then we can go back to having peace and quiet."

Chopper stopped listening. Tears of denial welled up in his eyes—they couldn't be! How could Zoro and Sanji! Was this how they were feeling the whole time since Brook became a nakama? Was their nice treatment of him just a big act for Luffy's sake? Was this the reason for everything?

It was like his world was crumbling apart. It made his knees wobble and his heart feel like it was going to burst. He turned and ran away, bawling loudly, and didn't stop until he'd crashed into Franky.

He spent the rest of the night listening to Franky tell him stories about his days as a kid, and eventually fell asleep curled up in the shop. He couldn't get rid of the pain in his throat, and he didn't feel brave enough to tell anyone what he was feeling. He felt like he didn't even know his nakama anymore.

What he didn't know, was that Zoro and Sanji's conversation had nothing to do with Brook. Luffy had several hours earlier caught a giant Circus Fish—a pink-eyed, huge-mouthed, glowing fish as ugly as three sins—and impulsively declared it as their newest nakama. It had taken residence in the aquarium; its disgusting presence had made it impossible for Nami and Robin to sit comfortably in the viewing room.

* * *

Chopper began to lose sleep.

Nothing felt normal anymore. He couldn't find the courage to talk to Brook, and even though everyone kept acting happy together, Chopper knew that something was going to break really soon.

Something did finally break, when the ship anchored at a small island.

Sunrise coloured the Thousand Sunny in a gentle, warm light. The sound of gulls roused the reindeer from his very short rest. He knew immediately that they had made land, and the absence of both Sanji and Brook from the room twisted bad feelings around in his gut. The worry and stress that had been building up for days rocketed him out of his bed and out the door, out into the orange glow of morning.

"Why are you letting him go?" Nami was snapping at Sanji, who leaned against the foremast with a lit cigarette in his mouth. The expression on his face was cross. Serious.

"He said he wanted to go," he replied breezily, as if he didn't want to discuss it. "If we don't lower our voices, Luffy'll wake up. If he finds out why Brook left the ship, he'll throw a fit."

Ice water in Chopper's veins.

He stood in the open, just in front of the door to the men's quarters and stared in disbelief at his nakama, who weren't doing anything to stop this.

Fearfully, the doctor turned away from his uncaring friends and charged straight to the top of the ramp, where he transformed into his four-legged form. That's when he spotted Brook, about fifty paces from the ship and slowly walking away. The skeleton had a large bag slung over one bony shoulder.

"Brook! Wait! Don't go!" the reindeer cried, charging down the ramp towards him.

Brook turned around just in time; Chopper launched himself, shrunk to his smallest size in mid-leap and clutched his nakama's ribs in a bone-crushing hug that rattled his bones. "Please don't leave, Brook! I want you to stay!"

"Oh!" said the skeleton in genuine surprise. He dropped the bag on the ground in order to return the hug. "Chopper-san, is something wrong? Ah! Did you have another bad dream?"

Tears running down his cheeks, snot dripping from his nose, Chopper turned his head upwards to look at the grinning face. "I know I should have said something sooner, but I was s-scared! Don't leave the c-crew, Brook!"

Had he any eyes, Brook's would have widened in realization. Then he laughed, a guttural sound that mixed with his voice cheerfully when he spoke. "Not..leave? I will be coming back, though, doctor-san! I am only going to buy supplies for Sanji-san. Oh, and some new strings for my violin."

Chopper gaped at him, loosening his hold on the ruffled coat slightly. "Y-You mean...you're not mad at me and...you're n-not leaving?"

"Yohoho, the only thing that would part me from this crew is death! Of course, since I am a skeleton, I am already dead. Yohohoho!"

It was as if someone had poured every happy emotion into his little heart. Chopper's stained face slowly broke into the happiest grin he'd had in weeks. Before he responded, a voice from the ship yelled out to them.

"_Oi_, _Brook_! When are you gonna learn to stop doing favours for this idiot? If you keep this up, I'll have to kick your ass!" Zoro called, having just arrived on deck.

Sanji spun on the green-haired swordsman viciously. "Shut up, dumbass! You'll wake up Luffy!"

"SANJI!"

The golden-haired cook froze in terror as their captain in question suddenly burst out into the open, looking like the very definition of 'broiling mad'. "Sanji! Fish Lips is missing! He's not in the aquarium! We have to lo—"

Luffy glanced over and spotted Brook and Chopper, who still stood on the cliff next to the ship. He apparently forgot about his missing pet fish. "Nyah? Why are Chopper and Brook leaving the ship?"

Nami held her hands in front of her and laughed nervously, "Ahaha, n-no reason! They just wanted to go...for a walk, to get some, um...fresh air! R-Right, Sanji-kun?"

"Oh, okay." Luffy's eyes traveled to the large bag behind Brook. The bottom of the bag was sopping wet and starting to form a water puddle on the rocks. "What's in that bag?"

"N-Nothing! Nothing at all important! It's just...tell him, Sanji-kun!"

"Oi, Luffy. Aren't you really hungry right now?" Zoro cut in.

The dark-haired captain looked dumbstruck. Then after a brief moment, his stomach gurgled loudly.

"AHH! I'M STARVING TO DEATH!"

Luffy was still howling about food as Zoro dragged him by the shirt into the mess hall. As soon as the door swung closed, Nami and Sanji breathed a collective sigh of relief. Anytime now, the rest of the crew would be coming out on deck, fully roused. The longer this went on, the higher the chance that their ploy would fail and they'd be stuck with that incredibly hideous Circus Fish leering at them from the glass aquarium. For months.

"Yohoho, I had better get going," Brook called out, then looked down at the reindeer doctor "Ah, would you like to join me?"

"Yes!" was the immediate answer.

Chuckling, the skeleton lifted him higher and settled the doctor on his narrow shoulders. Chopper had to flatten the massive afro in order to see. He and peered down at Brook from his vantage point as they began to move off towards the rising sun. "Um...what _is_ in that bag, Brook?"

"That's a secret, Chopper-san!" he sang. "But I'll tell you if you answer this riddle! Are you ready? What instrument do all skeletons learn how to play?"

As their forms gradually shrank into the orange glow of the sun, Chopper answered after a moment's thought, "A violin?"

"Nope! A trom-BONE!"

The chorus of two nakama laughing filled the air and continued until it faded out of earshot.


	2. Silence

AN: If I've gone overboard with this sad number, let me know. I feel horrible.

AN2: Also there's a very potty mouth words because...well, it's Sanji.

* * *

_Chapter Two: Silence_

-o-

It was nighttime, and the ship of the Mugiwara crew was a graveyard.

Only the metallic clicking of a lighter opening and closing broke the stillness, as fog drifted in waves over the grass and the curves of their beautiful _Thousand Sunny_. Occasionally, the ship would let out a wooden creak, as if calling out to her shipmates, wondering why they were being so silent.

_Because, Sunny. _Because silence was their punishment.

Sanji felt the cool fog engulf him, purposely not thinking about the Florian Triangle. Or Zombies. Or salt. None of his recent dishes had contained milk, because his hands wouldn't stop shaking uncontrollably every time he picked up the bottle. Eventually, he had to throw away the fish bones he'd been saving as a potential garnish. His stockpile of tea went into the back of the pantry.

And Luffy...

Pain shot through his hand as Sanji squeezed his lighter tightly. His knuckles blanched. What began as a tremble in his arm traveled into his body, tensing every muscle with overwhelming grief.

_It had been very dark and__ Usopp was on watch duty when the Marines sprang their ambush._

_ The sniper said with blubbering tears, long after the night had ended, that it was his fault for not noticing the ships sooner. There was no reason to accept this, however, because of the thick fog that concealed their enemy. These phantoms with massive sails rolled in, predators in the cold ocean spray with patience and tenacity in spades._

_ "Marines! Guys, wake up! Marine ships are everywhere! Wake up!"_

_ Usopp's screams brought everyone on deck. By this time, five enormous ships had encircled the Thousand Sunny, their steel hulls gleaming in the light reflected by the white fog. They were phantoms on the dangerous high sea, and each a predator in their own, eerie light._

The battle that followed had been a slap in the face of every Straw Hat crew member. This was a special ops fleet, designed to take down strong pirates. They weren't only armed to the teeth, they knew exactly how to fight Devil Fruit users and turn the odds against them.

Sanji flipped the light open and closed again. The 'snap' of metal rang in his ears, reminding him with a shiver of the sound of the chains rattling on the harpoons as they skewered Sunny's hull. Five of them.

_"Oi!_" _Franky's voice pierced the sound of gunfire and exploding cannons. "They're stuck in way too deep! Now way I'm getting these out without ripping apart the ship!"_

"_Zoro, what are you doing?" Usopp's cry was joined by his startled gasp as he took cover from a hail of bullets. "Cut the chains already!"_

_ "I can't do that!" roared the swordsman, as he sliced through another cannonball. _

Somehow the chaos, where blood was flying in small spatters, each nakama becoming sliced and bruised by the onslaught, the situation became clear. The harpoons were rigged with explosives, designed to blow ships apart from the inside.

If they hadn't tasted hell that night, Sanji would have applauded the craftiness of these marines. Each of the special harpoon cannons was designed to spear the ship, and set off an electrical charge along the chains to ignite the explosive clay. Luffy tried to board one of their ships and almost launched himself into the water—the marines _plated_ these ships with seastone.

_They couldn't cut out the harpoons. They couldn't cut the harpoons themselves, they couldn't get near the enemy ships, and they couldn't escape. One harpoon had gone off, leaving behind a hole that destroyed a chunk of Sunny's figurehead. In minutes, the other cannons were going to discharge and put and end to it._

_ The special ops marines thought of everything. _

_ Except for skeletons._

_ A wild belting of 'Yohohoho!' wedged its way between the explosions, cracks of gunfire and shouting men. Sanji was so tired at this point, he thought he was having a breakdown, because it sounded as though..._

_ Brook was running across the water, dodging cannonballs effortlessly as the confused marines tried to hit this new target. They couldn't; they would have had an easier time hitting a fly buzzing across the surface of a still pond. Nami was the first one to figure out what he was doing._

_ So she and Usopp cheered him on._

The blonde cook allowed the smoke to settle in his lungs for a few seconds longer, then exhaled slowly. Again, the damaged ship creaked around him in a sorrowful inquiry. Sanji leaned his head back against the wall of the cabin, ignoring the cool, wet grass that brushed up against his torn and disheveled black suit.

That fucking skeleton knew.

He _knew_.

_"Shishishi! Yosh! Show these guys how cool you are, Brook!_" _Luffy yelled out across the battlefield, arms outstretched. The marines' commanding officer was shouting something similar to the men on board their flagship. Half of the tide of the battle was now turned on the single, lightweight stick figure dancing across the waves in a flash of white bone and quick steel._

_One ship after another, Brook leaped into the air and seemed to phase right through the chains with his cane drawn out. With a hiss of cold that imitated a miniature thunderclap, the chains turned brittle and snapped off in icy chunks. The links still attached to the massive harpoon cannons dangled uselessly at the sides of the marine battleships. _

_ "Yohoho!"_

_ "Yoho!"_

_ "Too slow!"_

"_You missed me!"_

Sanji felt the ghost of burning pride in his chest, an echo of what he felt back then as he watched Brook single-handedly thwart those marine assholes one cut after another. He remembered wanting to rub it in the marimo's face as soon as he got the chance. He remembered deciding in the heat of the moment, that their musician was overdue for a little ego boost, and double the pleasure if it kicked Zoro in the face at the same time.

A feeling that lasted until the very last cannon.

_It was as if the battle had been in slow motion for those handfuls of minutes. A group of marines surrounding the last weapon were swarming it like ants, and that was the moment Sanji realized that they had somehow supercharged their cannon and were about to fire. _

_ Even Luffy, who knew less than nothing about shipbuilding, knew what would have happened if the massive barb exploded._

All that was left of that harpoon was a half-patched hole, now. They'd sunk the explosives. And the chain. It was at the bottom of the sea with the corpses of at least two battleships.

_After that, Sanji witnessed the next few moments in a series of flashes. A well-rounded feeling of helplessness sucked every ounce of his strength from his limbs._

_ The fleet captain barking out spittle-ladened orders._

_ Sixty-eight cannons firing in rapid succession._

_ The water exploding around Brook like a fountain from hell._

_ And their eight-foot-eight skeleton charging straight through it all, ignoring his own safety, since safety would have cost too much time._

_ Nami-san's face growing still and wide-eyed._

_ Usopp choking out a sound and almost falling overboard._

_ Zoro shouting Brook's name in warning. Pointlessly, because Brook had seen the danger and chosen to ignore it._

_ Luffy's uncomprehending, blank stare._

It had been one of those moments where a single one of their nakama borrowed the strength of the others, feeding on Zoro's loyalty, Chopper's determination, Robin-swan's fearlessness, their idiot captain's blind devotion and love.

He was the All Blue of nakama.

_"Fire! FIRE!" screamed the marine commanding officer._

_ A blade coated with an icy sheathe, trailing vapor through the dense, foggy air. The cannon crystallized before the upwards sailing form of a grinning skeleton. The barrel exploded as Brook's subtle cut shattered its integrity, and the chain crashed into the ocean._

_ And the marine captain, who had _not_ been yelling at the harpooners to fire at all, but at the twelve men standing next to him with their rifles and shoulder cannons._

_ Who fired._

It was a sight burned into his head, like the scorch mark from a snuffed out cigarette. Irreparable.

_Concentrated bullets and fist-sized iron balls slammed into the fragile body of the musician. Who didn't have a body, because he was just a skeleton. _

_ Who didn't gasp out in pain and relief, because he had no lungs. _

_ Who didn't see his success at protecting his beloved nakama in the joyful instant before his ribs shattered, because he simply had no eyes._

_ Who probably didn't feel the icy water swallow him whole, because he did not have any skin._

_ And he certainly didn't hear his captain's choked howl of rage after that, because he was fading into the pitch black darkness of the sea._

_-o-  
_

_ Sanji spat cold saltwater from his mouth, forcing his depleted, exhausted body onto the floating debris of the marine ship—the ship that had been intact minutes ago, when he dove in. Shivering uncontrollably, he pulled what remained of his nakama onto the flotsam next to him, and only then did he realize that Brook only had one arm left._

_ The brightly coloured overcoat was shredded. Where his ribs weren't broken off, they were flattened. The skeleton's vertebrae were fractured. And there was an eerie, green glow stirring inside his sockets._

_ The groan he suddenly made almost crushed Sanji's heart—so pain-filled and wheezy. His bony fingers crawled to Sanji's hand and clutched it weakly._

_"Yorki_—_" Brook made a choking sound, and the glow brightened inside of his skull, as if rising to a surface. "No, Sanji-san...thank you very much. I didn't wish to die in such a cold, lonely place...ah, though, I am already..."_

_ "Shut up, you lying perverted skeleton," the cook growled. His breath shook with more than just the frigid air. "Don't you dare make shitty jokes right now! I fucking swear I'll toss you back in."_

_ "Oh, how harsh..." The skeleton's high-pitched voice trailed off dimly. Oblivious to the sounds of battle and screaming marines, Brook's gaze seemed to fix on the sky. _

_ Sanji glanced up, and saw that the fog had all but dispersed, and a gap in the clouds showed a hundred gleaming lights._

_"Ah, the stars," observed Brook with a faint, but happy voice. "Laboon...these nakama are so wonderful...you will definitely love them as I have. The happiness I've felt is as endless as the stars..."_

_ "Dammit, Brook! If you really believe that, tell it to Laboon when you see him! You're not gonna fucking die again," snapped Sanji, but the effort to appear aloof and annoyed was slipping away. It was just too difficult to stay sane. He knew the horror was coming, and didn't want to face it like a man.  
_

_ "Sanji-san," laughed Brook softly, and the cold, spindly hand slipped off of his own. "He knows this already! You see, I just asked him to wait a little longer for you, his nakama...yohoho...!"_

_ It was over, as brief as a candle flicker. Brook inhaled sharply. The light within the skull shuddered like a fire and blinked out, taking with it the last traces of an echoing, cheerful laugh._

_ For a very long time, Sanji sat with a broken skeleton in his lap, trying to control his heaving breaths and the flood of mind-ripping emotion. But then the dam burst open under a rush of gut-wrenching pain, because at that moment Luffy had somehow sensed the abrupt void in the network of his nakama, and began to scream Brook's name out of nauseating grief.  
_

Silence.

Sanji wanted to scream too, to laugh, sing, shout, or just make a fucking racket loud enough to break window panes. He wanted _Bink's Sake_ when he strapped on his apron, smiling faintly over the sound of chopping onions. He wanted to walk outside one morning, and have the skeleton pop up out of nowhere and take credit for the worst skull joke ever imagined.

He wanted to see Luffy smile again.

Out of all of those things, only the latter was going to happen. Pain healed over time, even the type that turned you into a self-destructive shipwreck. And even though the fog kept drifting in every night...

Sanji raised a curly eyebrow as he turned his head skywards, and chuckled as the event he had been waiting for unfolded. No matter how far they went, or how thick the clouds were, he loved those never-ending stars. He wouldn't ever take for granted how lucky a man was to have a full belly of food, two beautiful women close by...and a clear, gem-filled sky that reminded him of violin music and tea.


	3. Guardian

_Guardian_

* * *

It started out a very quiet night.

Something unusual drew the skeleton out of his lidless sleep. For a long while, he merely took in the music of the calm sea lapping at the hull of the Thousand Sunny, the ruffling of the sails and uncoordinated breathing of his sleeping nakama, listening for the source of his wakening.

Then the sound came again, from the same direction—the kitchen. No, not the kitchen. Outside, on the deck.

Someone stirred behind him; Usopp-san was murmuring something in his sleep, and raised his hand to swat the air. Then he turned over in his hammock and went on snoring, unfettered by the real world.

Brook decided he'd best investigate.

Silent as only a phantom could be, the musician stood up from his boxed bed, gathered his cane from its leaning spot, and approached the door. All the while, the muffled, distressed noises continued from beyond the warm embrace of the men's quarters.

He opened the door without hesitation, fearing no chance of apparitions or ghosts, as he would have some decades ago...and stepped out on to Lion-chan's grass deck.

Sadness floated down into his ribcage, settling heavily in a place that was already very tender, a place touched too often by pain. Just as he feared, the source of his disturbed sleep was none other than one of his nakama, in the throes of what appeared to be a horrible nightmare.

Luffy-san was curled up at the base of Sunny's figurehead, where he'd likely landed after falling asleep on his watch. His precious straw hat was clasped so tightly in his left hand, it bent in half; that grip was as white-knuckled as Brook's own bony hands. It spoke volumes of the hellish dream state in which his captain was trapped.

Brook, of course, did not selfishly stand there and simply watch as Luffy twisted and squirmed—so wrought with whatever demons plagued his sleep. The musician's bones creaked as he bent his knees, scooping long arms under the Straw Hat's body, as gently as his feather-light touch would allow.

The blackness that swallowed Sunny-chan on this moonless night was broken by the sound of Brook's humming, as the familiar tune of 'Bink's Sake' took on the soul of a lullaby. The skeleton crossed the deck to the door of the infirmary with his captain dangling in his arms. Luffy made a few feeble attempts to struggle, as part of his nightmare rose to a crescendo, startling Brook to a complete halt when he bit out a word that sounded like physical pain.

"_Ace!_"

Everything went still, except for Luffy's twitching.

Loss was an old friend of Brook's. If a feeling so vile that it threatened to contaminate every good memory in a lifetime could be called a 'friend'. "No," he growled aloud, unsure why it needed to be said, but it made him tighten his grip on Luffy for some reason. "Not this time. Not my captain. This time...even if my bones crumble to dust, if I have nothing but my soul...I will protect Luffy-san from your madness!"

Brook was a musician, and knew from experience how one dealt with such things.

* * *

Zoro leaned in the open doorway to the infirmary, listening with his eye closed in respect.

He'd woken to hear Luffy crying out for his brother, and leapt out of the crow's nest in a heart-pinching panic. As he slid down the long ladder, he got ready to rush to his captain's side, but...

Well, when he saw Brook, that changed everything.

Realizing his captain was in the best hands for this sort of thing, Zoro started to go back sleep. Then, the song began, and for the most part, he unwillingly found himself eavesdropping.

Why the infirmary, he couldn't even guess. Maybe this performance wasn't intended for the rest of the crew; either that, or the bonehead thought he would disturb everyone else. It was a shame, actually. There was something so eerily haunting, but still overwhelmingly soothing about the melody drifting from Brook's violin right now. Slowly, Zoro opened his eye to gaze at the skeleton's turned back—the skeleton, who sat upon a stool next to the single infirmary bed with instrument and bow in hand. He listened to Brook's wordless singing, and felt the corners of his mouth stretch upwards with a sense of pride and gratitude.

Brook played on, without ever taking his eye sockets off of the occupant of the infirmary bed.

Luffy was snoring. And drooling. And smiling.

_Baka_, thought Zoro.


	4. History

AN: This one was going to be Nami's spot, but I ended up finishing Zoro's first. Nami's is a little more light-hearted, though these one-shots are supposed to be mostly serious in nature.

* * *

_Chapter Four: History_

* * *

A wild celebration broke out, rejoicing over the Straw Hats' arrival in the town of Vast Party.

It was an island that loved pirates; unsurprising, since the town was upheld by generation after generation of retired pirates, ex-pirates, spouses of pirates, their children and essentially a spawning point for many notorious Grand Line crews for over fifty years. Their entire culture centered around the coming and going of pirate crews, from their economy, to their yearly festivals.

So when the famous Monkey D. Luffy arrived, there was naturally a reason for the thousands of residents to throw him a feast and a party, even if it was a blatant attempt to get on his 'good side', otherwise to claim a spot in the tome of history that he left in his wake.

None of Luffy's nakama thought it pertinent to reveal that A) it didn't take much to get on Luffy's good side, and B) giving him copious amount s of food was definitely number one on the list of ways to befriend him. It was information that would probably get misused if ever it became public knowledge.

Zoro ate his fill in under ten minutes, and avoided drinking anything. After Whiskey Peak, he wasn't overly thrilled by the idea of pirate-loving townsfolk giving away free food. So he became a solid, unhappy rock amidst a sea of laughing, crying, singing voices, music, bright light and meaty smells. The hall was filled with people, each yammering on about their own idea of how to spend the rest of the evening.

"Oouuaa!?" Luffy's thunderous voice bounced off Zoro's ears and he winced, just slightly, and futilely wishing his captain would learn from past experiences. Just once. "Really, ossan? I've never met a pirate as old as you! Oi, can I have your bread?"

"Dammit, Luffy! Have some respect!" Usopp chided their captain. "Tch, you're too easily impressed. And what about Rayleigh? And Crocus? They're old, too!"

_And Brook_, Zoro added silently, and grimly. Thriller Bark was a long time ago, so he didn't blame the others for forgetting Brook's age. Well, Brook either wouldn't mind, or would remind them shortly if that sort of thing mattered to him. The swordsman turned his good eye from Luffy's table towards where Brook was sitting, vaguely wondering why the skeleton was being so unusually quiet.

What_?_ An uneasy curiosity swept over him when Zoro saw that Brook was not sitting down, enjoying the festivities, but was, in fact, standing next to the mess hall entrance. Like a statue. Unmoving, with his empty eye sockets fixed on the center of the room—no, at the old pirate who was telling Luffy and a half-dozen pint-sized children tales about his grand adventures.

"And then 'hwack!', I hit him with the flat of my blade and knocked the saber-toothed fire raptor out cold! We sold him for a hundred thousand beri, and my bounty went up by a million!" The thing-faced, gnarl-fingered, hunch-backed former pirate waved a breadstick back and forth, standing on top of the table as he reenacted the tale.

Luffy, Chopper and the children attending the story clapped their hands and cheered, as another chorus of 'kanpai!' resounded in the background. But Brook, Zoro noticed, didn't look impressed. In fact, he didn't look like anything at all. For someone who took every celebration as a chance to sing himself hoarse and show off his lame forty-five degrees trick to every heavily intoxicated onlooker who could still hold a bottle...this was chilling.

Then Zoro watched in mild shock as the skeleton turned, like a ghost, and left the building.

Something was definitely wrong.

Zoro launched himself off of the wall. Only strides in pursuit of the musician, and the green-haired swordsman ran into Robin, and she blinked at him—completely sober. Then she turned her head to look towards the door. "I can let you handle this one," she said reasonably. "It's foggy outside. Please hurry."

Because he didn't have anything to say to that, Zoro chose to respond with a grunt, and blew out of the mess hall. Stepping into the cool outdoors was like leaving a sauna and standing in Sanji's refrigerator. The cobblestone street with the tall, looming harbor shops on all sides was pretty gloomy with the faint white mist that engulfed the seaside town.

"Zoro-san," said a slightly surprised voice from the fog.

Amidst the layers of drifting paleness, Brook stood further down the street, looking back at him. "Why are you out here?" he asked Zoro, but breathed harshly, as though trying to overcome a raging emotion.

Zoro strode forward silently, and stopped two paces from his nakama. "Who was that?"

"Oh?"

"Don't play games; you're too old for this," Zoro scolded, crossing his arms across his chest. "Well? It's obvious you knew that old storyteller. You can tell me, or you can tell Luffy—I'd rather not bother him with it unless it's important."

It was the New World. They had to be serious; they had to stay on track. Zoro wasn't a scientist, but chances were, given the age of the storyteller inside, this was one of Brook's old nakama. Or somehow part of his past. Either way, he wanted it dealt with, so he wasn't letting the baka-skeleton disappear and hide, not when his nakama needed him.

He realized Brook wasn't answering him. Tch, fine. If he thought this was a game—

"Will you take a walk with me?"

It was asked so innocently, it unsettled him. Brook almost sounded desperate. What the hell was going on? "Sure. Of course," he said, keeping an encouraging smirk unsuppressed.

It was so deathly quiet in the town, with all of its residents so occupied elsewhere, that Zoro could hear his katana rattling in their sheathes as they walked. The skeleton's strides were slow, and echoed through the empty side-streets. They walked side-by-side in no particular direction, when all of a sudden, Brook stopped in his tracks.

They were swallowed by fog. Brook's bones were rattling as his body quaked; it was obvious the haze was getting to him.

A long, long minute passed. Zoro was getting impatient. "Look, if you're not going to tell me, I'll go ask him myself."

"Please, you must _not_ do that!" Brook hissed fiercely, brusque, angry determination overtaking his eerie-but-frightened aura of calm. Even his stance became more aggressive—then, as abruptly as he'd changed, he went back to being placid and sombre. "I apologize, Zoro-san. I had not thought about him for many years, it was just so surprising and...difficult..."

"Why not? Is he your nakama?"

Brook did something that he _really _didn't expect. The skeleton laughed, but his 'yo ho ho' was harsh, bitter and hollow. For some reason, a picture of Ryuuma flashed through Zoro's mind, but it was almost immediately swept away by what his crew mate said next.

"No," Brook said, folding two bony hands on top of his cane. "That is the man who killed me."

Zoro made an involuntary choking noise and he clenched his teeth until they hurt. "_That_ bastard? He's the one who...?"

"Hai."

The cold air that filled the swordsman's lungs suddenly felt like fifty years of cold, dead ash—probably the remains of a raging inferno of resentment and lust for revenge. Zoro knew revenge, the taste of it in his mouth mixed with the scent of sliced blood, driving to the brink of madness. He'd never felt _this_ before. If hatred had an aftertaste, this was it. And it was Brook's—he was projecting his emotions again.

Now fully aware of this, Zoro drew himself back in, focusing on the present. "Where is the rest of his crew?"

"I truly do not wish to know," Brook said with a cruel wistfulness. A puff of vapor formed in front of his solid grin, vanishing into the fog. "Though I suspect that many of their children and grandchildren are the ones serving Luffy-san and the others so graciously this evening."

"You could have said something."

"Hai, I could," Brook agreed. "But was it a desire to avenge my dead nakama that kept me alive for half a century of isolation? I don't even remember..."

"You said you were waiting for Laboon," said Zoro mercilessly. "And I believed you. So was that it? We can go finish this right now. The others would agree it's your right to choose one way or another."

This was Brook's slayer they were talking about. And this was insanity. Half of the swordsman was pissed at Brook, because who _wouldn't_ want this opportunity? The other half of Zoro was proud. If the skeleton didn't want revenge after all those years, then he was of stronger character than anyone else he knew. Except maybe Luffy.

Brook. had entered another long silence. Then a voice broke the blue-gray stillness, and it came from behind Zoro.

"I thought I had seen a ghost..."

It belonged to hunched, withered figure with a long white beard and golden hoop earrings—tokens of a younger age of pirates long past. The old storyteller—Brook's killer—emerged from the fog, alone.

Zoro spun around, putting a hand on the hilt of a katana, Sandai Kitetsu, growling, "You..."

"Imagine my surprise when you walked in," rasped the retired pirate, ignoring the green-haired swordsman. "Eight feet tall, that ridiculous afro, thin as bones, wu-ha wu-ha...it's 'all bones' now, I suppose, isn't that right, Captain Brook of the Rumbar Pirates?"

"Iron Eye Manashu," the skeleton replied darkly, with barely restrained rage rattling under the outspoken name. Then that darkness gave away to a frightened whisper. "Why?" A long pause. "Please tell me. What right do you possess to have lived such a long, happy life?"

"None." Silence. 'Iron Eye' Manashu didn't sound like a bloodthirsty sea scallywag. He sounded like someone who had been trying to forget something for half a century. "I gave up the right to everything that night, when I let my men add poison to their blades. I-I knew from the moment I saw you, that I'm being brought to judgement...finally."

"Judgement?" Brook said the word almost too casually, as if he didn't understand. "What judgement?"

With a shaking hand, withered Manashu reached into his ragged coat for something. Zoro tensed, threw one leg out to block the direct path to Brook, unsheathing his cursed katana at the same time. Seeing this, the seventy-six-year-old pirate chuckled a wet, gurgling chuckle as he slowly removed a clay jar wrapped in twine from his pocket.

With a crash, the jar shattered on the ground, spilling black, withered grain in a dusty pile. Brook flinched at that, and Zoro was left confused. Confused, but still wary.

"Captain Brook, I confess; this is why we destroyed you, the Rumbar Pirates. We took your supplies; we gutted your ship of everything useful, down to the last pinch of sugar and rope. In a selfish act to save ourselves, we robbed you of your lives. Our captain said it we should be humane. Your ship was broken, and between our two ships there were only enough provisions to save one crew. So, did we choose poison you all, make death as swift as possible, yes? But somehow, that terrible lie has not put me to sleep for fifty years!"

Manashu was yelling now, as if Brook were the one who had to answer for his unforgivable crime. He seemed to run out of breathe and leaned heavily on his cane, panting, waiting. The silence was becoming deafening for Zoro.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the skeleton said softly, "Brook."

The old pirate flinched. His confused look could have pierced the clouds.

"Just 'Brook', 'just bones' now," the skeleton went on. "I am no longer a captain. Straw Hat Luffy is my captain, and this is my nakama, Zoro. He will become the world's greatest swordsman."

"World's greatest...?" Manashu's weak voice trailed off in dismayed confusion.

Brook make a throaty sound of agreement...though he had no throat, being a skeleton.

Zoro stared.

It felt like a puzzle sliding into its place, each piece solving itself in his mind. He finally understood. Before, he had always thought he'd figured out the rude shitty-skulled morning nuisance from day one, but it was that one sentence that stamped the last fragment into the equation. Until now, it had been so easy to forget what Brook considered his dream—to find Laboon one day, probably after they circled the Grand Line, after Luffy became the Pirate King. If you put that beside the dreams of his other nakama, it seemed unfairly easy, small, practically guaranteed at the completion of their journey.

But fifty years of patience, madness, and devotion to the very _essence_ of nakama is what gave his dream its soul. So Zoro lowered the tip of his katana and relaxed his stance, smirking. _I get it_, he thought. _This guy's just a speck of dust on the road. From the start, he's been nothing but a distraction. _

"I see," the old pirate said finally, sounding anything but sure. "So, then...is this man my executioner?"

"Tch," Zoro spat, before Brook could answer. With a hollow, metal ring, he slid his katana back into its sheath. "I'm not usually picky about whose blood ends up on my swords, but...I'm not interested in dirtying them with the blood of a coward." _An unarmed coward, even.  
_

The lines on the old ex-pirate's face deepened with some unknown pain, this time turning his attention to the skeleton. "Then...you won't kill me?"

"No," Brook replied gently. "Because that is not the kind of person I am. In the end, if I did give in to the yearning for revenge, then I would most assuredly become less than worthy of being the Pirate King's cherished musician. He," he went on gravely, "is why I stand here, very much alive, with far more pride and esteem than I could ever have achieved on my own. And you, Iron Eye Manashu, are merely a walking corpse."

No physical blow could have rendered Manashu as stricken as he looked now. Zoro didn't feel an ounce of pity for him.

"Jiichan! Jiichan!"

A gaggle of little voices and a flurry of movement burst out of the mess hall not too far from the scene. Three kids, each with a mess of red-orange hair and matching crooked teeth, galloped towards Manashu at full tilt. They paid no attention to the sobriety of their grandpa's current situation.

One of them leapt up and grabbed Manashu's arm, tugging it earnestly. "Jiichan, you didn't finish the story! Curly pirate man is giving out dessert! And straw hat pirate's eating it all!"

"Come inside, jiichan!" whined another.

'Iron Eye' Manashu teetered backwards under the weight of his son's daughter, but didn't take that steely one-eye gaze off of Brook's face. "But...but..."

That was the last thing he said before he was dragged into the soft, yellow glow that permeated the fog, and the sound of a door slamming shut soon followed. It became quiet again on the street.

"I won't pretend I understand what that was like," Zoro said, not allowing for the looming, awkward silence to fall. "At least I can promise you won't have to do it ever again."

"Thank you, Zoro-san," said Brook, and for the first time that night, he sounded halfway like himself again.

Given the fact that they were surrounded by a thick, eerie fog, Zoro's instincts were to make the skeleton go back into the mess hall, where he wouldn't be living a reminder. It made sense. This was one of the many ways they protected each other. But then, he had to remember _what_ had just happened. Tonight wasn't about forgetting your history, or trying to escape it. It was about facing the past and moving forward.

"Alright, then. Let's go take that walk."

"Very well!" the skeleton sang, sounding _way_ too overexcited about the idea of strolling through a cold, dark, creepy empty town.

And Brook's soul lit the way; side-by-side, the two swordsmen of the Straw Hat pirates disappeared into the forgotten haze.


	5. Madness

AN: I guess I can't write anything that isn't A) dark or B) sad. This one is about Luffy too, believe it or not, because the last Luffy one was more oriented towards Brook.

The essence of nakamaship is something outstanding.

* * *

_Chapter Five: Madness_

* * *

Luffy flew down the dark, stone corridors faster than his sandals could take him. Black hair whipped freely around his ears as the hatless Straw Hat king yelled over and over.

"Brook! Oi! Brook, where are you?"

_"Thank you, Mugiwara-san, for saving our village. We will forever be in your debt! However...I'm afraid to tell you, that your crew mate—Brook-san, was it? He isn't here anymore."_

"Brook! Answer me!" Panting, the fear-stricken captain darted from one darkened doorway to another. No skeleton. No skeleton. Nothing but dust and broken stuff. Where was his musician?

"Brook!"

_"We really don't know what happened..."_

_ "I do! I overheard whole thing! That horrible Baron came down from the castle after the explosion, and that skeleton friend of yours went outside to meet him. He didn't know at the time that the Baron was a traitor, of course!"_

The voices of the villagers wouldn't leave his brain. It was like having a song stuck in his head that he didn't like. So the voices all melded together, sounding like lyrics, all sung by Brook. _Everything_ sounded great when Brook sang it. He wanted to hear Brook sing something—all musicians should be around when their captains wanted to hear a song!

Luffy opened his mouth and bellowed again.

"BROOK! Where are you? BROOK!"

_"Baron told him you all died in that explosion. That brave gentleman...sounded like he didn't believe a word of it! He looked ready to chop the Baron's head off__! And then, my word, that god-awful man handed him that singed straw hat."_

"Brook—"

The captain's voice cracked with exhaustion. His hand scraped against the wall as he leaned in, wheezing. He'd been so worried about his hat after the castle exploded. It had gone missing—it was _all_ he could think about until he got back to the village.

That changed when he realized that Brook was missing.

_"He looked so horrified. No expression at all, of course, and not a word after that. It sent chills down my spine; I never thought someone could look _that_ broken."_

Where did he go? Luffy had begged them. Where was his musician now?

_"He asked me if the village had a cemetery. I told him, 'yes, of course!', but it's deep underground. It's more of a tomb, really."_

Luffy's ragged gasps for air echoed off of the stone walls. The lantern he was carrying cast eerie shadows all around him, and they all looked alive. He wanted to ask them—had they seen his skeleton pass by here? Luffy was ready to trade his own shadow back for a clue. The need to find his missing nakama felt like physical pain.

Light in the corner of his eye alerted him. He jerked to the side, noticed a faint glow coming from the far end of a tunnel. The sound of splintering, rotten wood and metal against stone—like a raging battle—came to his ears. It was faint, but he knew that he'd found his musician.

Moments blurred together until the corner of a door whipped past his vision, and Luffy stumbled head-first into a large, wide room filled with coffins. Mostly rotted away, but line up ceremoniously from wall to wall. Many of them were cut into so many pieces, the bones inside of them poked out, or spilled on the floor.

And his skeleton, the only _upright_ skeleton in the room, stood ten feet from the doorway, holding his unsheathed sword.

"Brook...?"

The skeleton turned.

"Ah! Hello, young man," he said, a strained half-song voice shaking with forced optimism. Warbling sanity. No recognition in the slightest. "Have you also come to steal my captain's hat?"

What started as an answer caught in Luffy's throat. He was suddenly buzzing, alive with pulsing instinct. All of the marks on the wall, gashes, cold, dripping ice—he knew Brook had caused them, he'd been fighting a horde of imaginary enemies come to steal the last thing he would ever receive from his nakama.

"I'm not here to steal anything," Luffy said flatly. He lowered his gaze, gave no indication of the immense relief he felt. He balled his fists and stood strong. He had to be strong. "I came to get my musician back."

"I see." His musician's bony hand clutched the rim of the straw hat tighter. The dim light gleamed across the blade of his cane. "I am so sorry to hear he is dead," Brook said with an ache in his voice. "As this is a place filled with nothing but bones and bones. Even I am nothing but bones, yohohoho..."

"No," Luffy uttered. "You're the Soul King. You're my nakama. Give me my hat. We're going back to the Sunny-Go."

"I will do no such thing!"

The harshness and brutality of the skeleton's voice shocked Luffy, but only for a very brief moment.

_"I will protect you with my life!"_

_ "Brook!"_

Just like that time.

Painstakingly, the young captain swallowed all the nice things he wanted to say, and instead used his best voice for when he was _in charge_. "Give me my hat. The others are waiting for us."

"Yes, I have kept you all waiting for a long time, captain," came the distant reply. Brook's empty sockets gaze down into the hollow curve of the upside-down straw hat, carefully cradled in his had. "Fifty years is so very long, so cold and long, without a song to warm you up. But I must—I _must_ protect this cherished dream, this simple straw hat, my very last...nakama...so you see, I cannot let you have the spirit of the Pirate King!"

Luffy stood like a post in a deep sea current, waiting for Brook's wild lunge. Without moving, he stood gazing at the skinless face of his precious nakama until the outstretched sword was a heartbeat away.

"Laboon."

Brook's attack stopped; the sword-tip was inches from piercing Luffy's chest. Finally, the black-haired captain raised his head to glare intensely at his musician. "Laboon is crying. He's sad that you forgot about him. Laboon is crying, because you've given up on him!"

"L-Luffy...san?"

Without warning, Luffy surged forward and seized the skeleton by his lapels, shaking him hard. "Promise me, Brook! Promise me you won't forget about Laboon ever again! He's been a really good nakama and waited for fifty years and you can't forget ever again!"

There were tears streaming down his cheeks, feeling hot against skin cooled by the frigid air of the tomb. Luffy pressed his forehead against the sharp ribs of his musician as fury roiled within him. "Even if we die, you can't give up on your dream. I promised him we'd finish our duel. One of us has to return no matter what! Got that, stupid skeleton?"

Brook's sword hit the stone floor with a metallic, echoing ring and a trembling hand touched Luffy's shoulder; it jerked back suddenly, upon affirming that his captain was real. "It's true...? Luffy-san, you're alive...why did you take so long?" he choked out.

"We got trapped. We couldn't find a way to reach you. The Baron lied to make you weak, Brook. But it's okay...I really kicked his ass."

Dull silence.

The sudden burst of happy 'yohohos' that came from the depths of Brook's soul was accompanied by a bone-crushing hug. Luffy's boisterous laughter filled every corner of the dark tomb with light; even the skulls lying on the floor, remnants of poorly buried ancients, seemed to be grinning in triumph.

Luffy didn't care that the edge of his straw hat was crumpled, because Brook had been clutching it so tight. Nami would fix it. And Chopper would fuss over Brook, making him drink milk even though he wasn't injured. Sanji would cook him something delicious.

A deep, bubbling growl shook the captain's stomach. He hadn't even realized how empty it was until now, because there was another void he'd had to fill before anything else. But the hole was gone, leaving him with just one choice. He grabbed his straw hat from Brook, slapped it on top of his head-

"ALL RIGHT! LET'S GO EAT MEAT!"

The proclamation made the dust on the walls shudder, and at least three rats scurried for safety from the madness of the two nakama.


	6. Delusion

AN: Finally, a Nami one. That leaves Usopp, Franky and Robin, I think. This chapter's...different, so to speak. Oh, yes. Thank you everyone for the continued feedback and viewership. I'm told it's good PR to thank people for reading my stuff. And hey, those voices in my head know kung fu, so who's gonna argue?

* * *

**_Chapter Six: Delusion_**

_Timeline: Post-Fishman Arc  
_

_Characters: Nami and Brook  
_

_Warnings: A lot more emotional hurt, because I'm a sadist.  
_

* * *

It was the middle of the night. There was a full moon in the star-filled void overhead, basking the waves in a thin, silver sheeting that rippled endlessly. A feeling of serenity and peace could not be avoided on this kind of night, as the occupants of the _Thousand Sunny_ were lulled through their dreams.

Nami stepped out onto the deck. Her gait was rigid, shoulders hunched, and her hair clinging to her face. She carried an axe; its metal blade was dulled and its hilt chipped, but she held it with such conviction that it may as well have been her Clim-A-Tact.

It was a cool night.

* * *

_For once, Nami, decided, she deserved to be the hero. Zoro was always saving her crew mates from doing stupid things. Luffy was good at rescuing people, no matter what the circumstances were. And since Brook saved her life back at Fishman Island, she now she had the perfect opportunity to prove she was more than a damsel in distress. Also, if she found some treasure along the way, all the better, right?_

_ It was Brook's fault they were captured, anyway. She steeled herself to kick his ass from port to stern when they got back to the Sunny for dragging her into this._

_ So she disguised herself as one of the lab attendants and moved through the maze of corridors incognito, looking for her unique all-bones nakama. _

_ Then she smelled the oranges._

* * *

The grass deck made her approach silent. Her intended victim could not have escaped, however, even if it did have eyes to see or ears to listen.

It was the sight of her target that caused a painfully tight swell of emotion in her chest; she could do nothing but open her mouth, scream a way cry and heft the axe over her shoulder. She couldn't stop herself. She charged straight down the lawn and swung _hard_.

The bruised blade _thwacked_ into the trunk of her orange tree.

_Thwack_. It struck the other side, taking another chunk of wood.

_Thwack._

* * *

_It was pure chaos in the hidden lab, because Luffy and her other nakama were attacking, en route to rescue their captive crew mates. Because of the panic, Nami was able to follow the scent of citrus through the hallways very easily. _

_ Which she did, until two metal doors slid open as she ran past, and she saw them._

_ Them. A pyramid stack of crisp, fresh oranges sitting in a tray on a cart, just inside the odd-shaped room. The room behind the metal doors had a strange, spongy-looking coating on the walls. Dumbfounded, the navigator approached the unattended pile of fruit. Out of familiar habit, she reached out and picked one up, sniffing it curiously._

_ It took five seconds for her to notice table ten feet away. It had another stack of orange: smaller ones with more yellow in the skin. In fact, the entire room seemed to be covered with different varieties of oranges. The smell was__—_

_ And her eyes landed on him._

* * *

Nami swung again and again, missing more times than she struck, and each time she shouted in betrayed pain. She didn't know any time had passed, but then, as she heaved her weapon back to strike again, someone snatched it from behind.

She whirled on him, ready to attack, kick, scratch, bite or whatever else it took to get her axe back. But when she saw that it was Zoro standing there with an iron grip on its handle, she knew it was hopeless.

So very hopeless.

* * *

_Her knuckles were turning white as she clutched the lapels of Brook's dress coat in one hand, shaking him mercilessly His bones rattled in the chair to no effect; he just wouldn't respond, not to her voice, not to the slaps across his face, not to anything._

_ "Brook! Wake up! You can stop playing dead already. I'm the only one here! Tell me where the keys to these stupid cuffs are! They're not seastone, so..."_

_ The skeleton's skull lolled to one side, staring off into a void. Something wetter than fear, uglier than terror, and, sharper than denial crept into Nami's insides. That feeling began to throb._

_ At first, she didn't understand what she saw. Recognition felt like ice water in her veins._

_ It was oozing a strange aura, and it was round, almost innocent-looking. Innocent, if it wasn't for the ominous, skull-shaped swirls all over its dark, dark orange body. The Yomi Yomi No Mi sat upon a stack of smaller fruits just meters away. _

_ She slowly turned her head to look at Brook, taking in his stillness and his...stillness, and trying to process the foul Truth all at once.  
_

_ Deduction came shortly after that, like what must happen to water in a waterfall—it _had_ to come crashing down, even if the verdict drowned her. There was one reason, and one reason only that a Devil Fruit would reappear in its original form._

_ The orange she had been holding slipped from her fingers and rolled across the floor. _

* * *

"Give it back! Give it back to me right now!"

Nami pulled, tugged and pried as hard as she could at Zoro's hands, but he held the axe at his side and didn't even flinch under her slaps and fists. She resorted to pounding him on the chest repeatedly, until her pent-up anger gave way to pure-heated grief, and she collapsed on her nakama, sobbing and shaking.

Zoro, who had been rigid and devoid of any external emotional until now, dropped the axe and caught her as she fell to her knees.

Fond memories smelled sweet and tangy. It was part of her life, etched into her memories, reminding her of the great, blossoming warmth of Bellemare's orchard.

Now she dreamed nightmares of oranges with swirls on them. Every night. And her tree, her beloved orange tree in those recurring dreams followed her around in those dreams, laughing 'Yohohoho!'

"I want to wake up now, Zoro," she told him, sitting back on her heels and slowly raising her head to stare listlessly at him through hot tears. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak a word, there was a sharp _crack_ in the air, and suddenly it began to rain...

Rain oranges.

Spiny, leafy branches grabbed her from behind.

_"Nami-san!"_

* * *

Nami's eyes flew open.

"Nami-san! Nami-san! Are you okay?"

She was running. Horizontally. No...she was being carried by someone who was sprinting. Her carrier was slowing down now, and then he stopped. With her heat hammering in her throat, Nami looked up at the face looking down at her.

That ashen-white, permanently grinning face that, despite its lack of skin or muscle, looked confused and concerned.

"Say something, please! You're scaring me!"

"Brook...?"

"Hai! I'm sorry, Nami-san, but I must keep moving, or they'll catch up with us!"

This was reality, and its bitter taste was the most wonderful flavour she'd ever experienced. A groggy smile spread across her face as Brook cradled her a little more tightly, and took off again at a mad run.

"We're still...captured...at the Marine base?" she croaked.

"That's correct! Yohoho! I pretended to be dead and broke out, but they had moved you to a different cell when I returned. I was so worried when I found you unconscious on the floor!"

That angry, accusing proclamation from her skeletal nakama made her laugh without meaning to, and Brook looked down at her mid-sprint with horror. "Why are you laughing, Nami-san?"

"S-Sorry...I'm just relieved..." Nami closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. "You're...rescuing me again, huh? That'll be...fifty thousand berri...for stealing my show, you idiot..."

She only heard part of his stuttering protests, because the knockout drugs in her system were pulling her back into another deep, dark place with lifelike dreams.

As always, Bellemare greeted her with a grin and an offering of orange juice. As always, it was sweet and tangy.


	7. Pretense

AN: And now for something completely different. No, seriously. I lied. Before, I mean. I'm not lying about this chapter being different. Well, it's not different so much as I've tried to balance out the serious and humour. And you know what? You'd be better off understanding what I mean by reading ahead.

Yes, it's a quick update. I reward enthusiasm with foreign chocolate normally, but this time enthusiastic readers will have to settle with another update.

* * *

_**Chapter Seven: Pretense**_

_Characters: Usopp and Brook_

_Setting: After Fishman Island_

_Warnings: Skull jokes._

* * *

Usopp couldn't believe his good fortune. The need to tell someone about his incredible lucky day was overpowering, but since his shopping partner hadn't returned yet, he didn't want to start blabbing to just anyone about how many valuables he was carrying. There were too many dangerous people nearby, and there was no one around to protect him.

Then from further down the street, "Usopp-saaan!"

The sniper leaped from the stack of crates excitedly and ran to meet the towering skeleton in front of a paper shop. "Brook! Did you get everything?

"Hai! There was so much to choose from, I thought my eyes would pop out! Ah, but I have no—"

"Wait, wait, wait. Me first, me first," Usopp interrupted quickly, and slung the pack off his shoulder. He held it out to allow the musician to peer inside. "That special fertilizer I needed to grow more Pop Greens? They had it! I found that gold paint, too, though I had to bring my mask with me to match it, of course. Oh, and they had new seeds that grow plants to make sleeping powder, too. You're not the only one who can put hordes of enemies to sleep anymore, ha ha!"

Brook made an astonished noise, filled with genuine envy. "That is quite a find, Usopp-san! Yet I have so much fun playing Nemuriuta Flanc, since I don't get to practice it much."

Usopp laughed somewhat bashfully and scratched the back of his neck, "Oh, well...I wouldn't use it unless you weren't around, or couldn't play it, of course. Okay, so what did you get?"

As the pair exchanged their findings, the people of the small island town continued to mingle around the market, either ignoring them completely or giving Brook a strange glance as they passed by. After a short minute, a commotion started up at the end of the street, where the main road through town was located.

Both Straw Hats looked up over their shoulders. "Eh?" said Brook. "What's going on over there?"

Usopp made a choked sound when he spotted a small dust cloud approaching from the opposite end of the street. "Ahh! Armed men! Are they coming to arrest us? What do we do, Brook?"

"They look very angry," the skeleton observed, with a rising tone of panic. "Let's hide! Look, this way!"

They hastily entered the empty alleyway before the mob of men armed with old swords, pitchforks and other haphazard weapons rushed past. Each stared in wonder as what at first seemed like a bounty hunter's ambush sped right by them looking for trouble elsewhere. With his panic ebbing away, Usopp's curiosity was starting to get the better of him.

"C'mon, Brook," he half-whispered, slinking down the narrow, abandoned pathway towards the source of the rabble. "I don't like the look of this."

Brook joined him as they crept through the backstreets, following an alternative route to where an alley opened on to the main street. Conveniently enough, there were a few boxes covered with a tarp blocking the entrance, giving them an excellent hiding spot to snoop on the growing crowd.

A noisy semi-circle of townspeople were standing in front of a wooden platform, on top of which were half a dozen heavily armed men and a single, brunette woman with by no means unimpressive assets. Many of the onlookers had armed themselves too, with whatever they could get their hands on. Usopp strained his ears to try and pick up on what some of onlookers were shouting.

"You're no better than pirates yourselves!"

"We don't believe you!"

"You can't prove it!"

This left Usopp distinctly confused, until his eyes scanned right over the heads of the closest rioters and realized that there was an _eighth_ person on the raised platform.

"Oh, my," said Brook.

Of course, Usopp instantly recognized that the skeleton on the stage was _not_ the same skeleton squatting next to him, but his heart jumped to his throat anyway. Drooped in a chair, dressed with nearly impeccable precision, was a tall, lanky skeleton with an orange feathered boa and a golden crown.

"Think about what we're offering!" cried one of the heavily armed thugs on the platform, his booming voice overpowering the taunting crowd. "Soul King Brook, a member of Straw Hat Luffy's crew, has a bounty of fifty-three million berri! That's twenty-six million berri for the whole town, and all we ask is for a ship and a short-term loan!"

"There's no Marines on this island," the woman spoke up, her voice clear and commanding. "We would have to sail three days to the next island in order to claim the bounty. A ship and a few thousand berri aren't much to ask, is it?"

"Right, and what's keeping you from sailing away with all the money and never coming back?" shouted an older man in the crowd.

"We don't want to swindle you fine people," replied another of the swindlers, this time the bald scarred one closest to the 'fake' Brook. "Of course we'll leave Soul King's body here until we return with the Marines who'll claim him."

A great deal of hushed muttering spread through the rapidly growing crowd at this, and something turned in Usopp's gut. He didn't like this at all.

"These poor people," Brook said quietly, clutching his own, authentic gold crown in one hand. "Those bandits are using a fake me in order to steal from the town! Though I must say, I must say I am impressed with how closely that skeleton resembles me. Ah! Does that mean it's a real dead body? Scary!"

"You _are _a real dead body!" Usopp sniped back at him with hushed ferocity. "Did you hear? Your bounty went up, too, 'Soul King'!"

"They must be very unhappy about what happened at my concert, yohoho."

Someone in the crowd shouted, "How do we even know he's the real thing?"

"Yeah! How did you manage to kill him if he's a real skeleton?"

"My dear, simple common folk," said the woman on the stage, in a condescending, simpering tone. She strode forward as she spoke. "It's a widely known fact that Soul King is a Devil's Fruit user, so all we had to do was drown him. Even a living skeleton has to breathe."

"Amateurs," Usopp muttered in a husky, dramatic voice. He then noticed that his counterpart was actually no longer hunkering down. "Eh? Brook, what's wrong?"

"I just find it so _rude_ that they would mistreat a poor man's body like that after he is dead!" Brook said harshly, and his voice rose to an even more dangerous-to-Usopp's-health volume when he added, "Ah, but since he is already dead, he has no body! Yohohoho!"

His laugh was cut off by a yelp. Usopp grabbed the ruffled cravat of his skeletal friend and yanked him to the ground as hard as he could, just as a nearby little girl turned her head to look in their direction.

Some of Usopp's anger at almost being discovered gave way to sympathy, because Brook's words made him recall part of the musician's fifty-year-old story. It also sparked a very risky, but definitely worthwhile idea in the back of his brain.

"Brook?"

"Hai, Usopp-san."

"Did I ever tell you about Sogeking?"

* * *

The sun was heating up the main street very quickly as noon approached, and the six thugs at the center of the gathering were winning. More and more people were taking their side, convinced that a twenty-six million berri payday was headed their way, and fewer were demanding proof or refuting their claims that 'Soul King Brook' was real.

"All right!" bellowed the bald thug, holding up a piece of paper in his left hand for all to see. "Here is the official agreement written by the mayor of this town! In exchange for fifty thousand berri and a fully stocked ship, our crew will sail to the Navy-controlled island of Wheatmore to collect the bounty-"

A soft whistling sound was the only warning, when a small, fiery hole appeared in the center of the fraudulent paper. A second later, it burst into flames. The thug holding it helped and jumped backwards.

"It's him! It's...it's...Sogeking!" a woman cried, pointing frantically.

A shocked clamor rose in the tightly-packed crowd as every last one of the countless faces, young and old, turned in unison to stare up at the top of a building nearby. Sure enough, the golden-masked, long-nosed, red-caped 'member' of the Straw Hat crew, a spitting image for his wanted poster, stood on the corner of his perch, laughing melodramatically.

And sure enough, as mobs were prone to do, they jumped to probable conclusions.

"Sogeking is another Straw Hat! He's here to avenge his fallen comrade!" yelled a hysterical man.

"Give me that!" roared the bald thug, still on the platform. He forcibly grabbed a stack of papers from one of his allies and began to leaf through them, only stopping when he had the correct wanted poster in his hands. "Th-Thirty-eight million? He has a thirty-eight million berri bounty?!"

"Ho ho ho!" laughed the masked figure in question, posing with one hand on his kabuto weapon. "You won't claim _my_ bounty today. Nor will you claim my nakama's bounty, for I am the King of Snipers! I can pick a flea off the back of a Sea King from ten miles away!"

"B-B-Boss, he must be the real thing!" gagged one of the bald thug's companions, looking understandably panicked. "That's a real member of the Straw Hat crew we're dealing with!"

"Oi, oi, oi, oi!" barked the bald 'Boss', but it was too late. Someone nearby had overheard that.

"What do you mean 'real' member?" shouted a teenage boy, shaking his fist. "You took down a Straw Hat with a fifty-three million berri bounty! Show us you can do it again!"

A chorus of 'yeahs' and other forms of agreement spurred forth from the crowd, like a lion's roar.

The thug boss's hand clenched around the wanted posters, crushing them as his veins visibly boiled and popped with anger. "D-Dammit, Sogeking! We almost convinced this stupid town that this fake skeleton was the real thing! Forget the ship! Forget the fifty-thousand! Come down here and fight us like a real man so I can have your head!"

Sogeking was completely still as his audience stared up in wonder. A hush had fallen over the crowd. Eventually, he said, "Fake skeleton?" Pause. "What are you talking about?"

Immediately, the boss's face fell and he stuttered. His bout of confusion didn't last long, because a very haunting, chilling sound broke the silence...a sound coming from _behind_ him.

"_Yohohohoho..."_

The female bandit screeched and leaped away from the 'dead' skeleton sitting at the very back of the platform. The mob promptly forgot about Sogeking and turned their attention to the platform. Just as some people were questioning their sanity, the creepy laugh happened again, this time louder.

_"Yohohohohooo!"_

With a dramatic 'click', Soul King Brook's head tilted upwards. A deafening, frightened sense of stillness broke out over the crowd, the 'calm' before the storm. Slowly, Brook turned his head to look from one thug, to the next, keeping the rest of his body prone in the chair. He stared at the female member for the longest, and after a long silence, he at last said, "Ah, excuse me, miss. May I see your panties?"

It was probably the only time this question wasn't answered with a swift kick to the head.

Chaos broke out. People began to scream and scramble around each other, trying to escape from the fact there were _two_ dangerous pirates around. It didn't matter that, as of many hours ago, the real 'Soul King Brook' had already visited five stores and not harmed a single person on the island. This was mob mentality, and the sight of a moving, talking, supposedly 'dead' skeleton was great kindling for the flames of mayhem.

Most of them didn't see Brook stand up, politely bow, and then unsheathe his weapon. ("When did it get a sword!?" stammered one of the thugs.) No one saw the 'dummy' skeleton lying on the ground beneath the platform, where the real one had put it while the crowd was distracted.

No one really saw what happened to the seven bandits on the stage. In fact, the next time anyone saw their faces, it was the next morning—alive, but burnt and slashed to ribbons, each tied to the same chair they used in their ruse. As for the poor skeleton they'd dug up in order to pull it off, it showed up at the empty gravesite a day later.

But the most interesting thing left behind by the two authentic Straw Hat members, was the golden mask strapped to the face of the 'boss' thug, with a hand-written note inside.

_To the Marines who come after Straw Hat Luffy,_

_ I, Sogeking, hereby relinquish my disguise and gift you these pieces of trash. From now on, if any thieving idiot should try to turn me in without this mask, then that man is innocent. Also, if you really wish to continue chasing after my captain, then know this: I am always watching you! _

_ You don't know my face._

_ Sincerely, _

_ The King of Snipers_


	8. One Piece

AN: Hope this was worth the wait. I will let this chapter speak for itself.

* * *

_**Chapter Eight: One Piece**_

* * *

The one box was made from plain, rough, wood and held together by leather belts. It was roughly the size of a small child.

The one cyborg was covered in scrapes and small dents, and his once brilliant cerulean hair looked dull and scruffy against the metal scalp. He was roughly the size of eighteen normal men.

If not for the gentle creaking and groaning of the ship as it rocked in the offshore waves, the gathering of pirates in underdeck tavern would have been deadly silent. The cyborg stood in front of their captain, an unwashed, foul-smelling man dressed in oily clothes. Beside the cyborg stood his reputation, an invisible but overbearing reminder that _this_ was a Straw Hat member. With only a seventy-two million beli bounty, the captain and his crew were terrified of what might happen.

But that did not stay their greed.

"Th-Thirteen million," stammered the gutless captain, trying desperately to stand by his convictions. "We have to pay for the damages to our ship! Do you know how many pirates came after us just for this thing?"

Franky was barely listening to the man. Really, he could just walk over to the box, pick it up and leave without paying one single beli. He wouldn't need one bottle of cola to deal with these sea worms, but he also didn't want to risk damaging the box and its contents in the fight. This wasn't his first time being extorted by common thugs for the sake of nakama.

Even though he was a shipwright, and could tell that the damage to this ship was pathetic. It wouldn't take thirteen million beli to fix it; it wouldn't even take one. What did it matter? It would take one second to obliterate what was in that box, and one moment to destroy what he'd been searching for for twenty-five years.

However, these pirates didn't know one thing about this cyborg.

"Ten million," said Franky, and that was five times more than his first offer. It didn't matter. Nami had one billion beli invested in this. There was just one piece left.

Franky left the ship with the carefully bound wooden box tucked away in one arm, and ten million beri behind him. His heart was pounding. One wrong step, and the box could break into one thousand pieces. It would take one twitch of his rusty joints, and the entire thing would be flattened.

One man stood at the end of the street in the peaceful port city. His green coat was tied back, and the tufts of grey around his temples blended gradually into his green hair. He stood, arms crossed, his one good eye gazing expectantly at Franky as he arrived. "You're late," he said.

Franky didn't respond. His swordsman nakama was impatient. One decade, let alone two, had been almost too much for him to bear. They were not immortal.

So one by one, the people in the street disappeared. Whispers surrounded them, talks about their notoriety and pointing fingers disappearing into the twilight. As they walked down the street to their hideout, one nakama looked over at the other.

"You really think he's still alive?"

"He thinks so, doesn't he? That really should be enough for you. You still don't believe?"

"I choose to believe what I can see."

It was one more lie told between them, because no one had truly stopped believing. Even if they ran out of their own belief, there was one among them with enough hope and confidence to bring them around again.

Together they passed by many shops and houses, not stopping until there was only one door left, at the very end of the street. Franky turned sideways and ducked to get inside, but by now it felt as though his heart and stomach would meld into one organ. When Zoro closed the door behind them, a unifying, wholesome feeling settled over the room.

"You're back," said a voice from the middle of the room. A man in his early forties sat cross-legged on top of a barrel with palms on either of his knees. There was a wide, unnaturally stretched grin on his face. "Zoro, did you let Franky get lost? I almost had to come get you guys, shishishi!"

"He tried," pointed out a mature, orange-haired woman from deeper inside the hideout. She leaned against the wall next to a dark-haired woman, who unlike many others, appeared to have not aged a single day. "I lost count of how many times Robin had to stop him from going on a rampage."

One minute of silence followed, where a silent wave of tearful anticipation began to roll in. Franky carried the box to one end of the room and placed it on a table. Once that was done, Chopper and Usopp rushed over to watch him work. The sniper had to use his only arm to push the reindeer's massive antlers aside, because in his excitement, their doctor wasn't paying attention.

Franky undid the clasps on the leather belts. He opened the lid of the box, and his nakama held their breath.

Sanji stood nearby, respectfully poised with a steaming cup of tea in his hands. The tea had been reheated one too many times, but it would still taste delicious. He would accept nothing less after his nakama's twenty-five year long drought.

He, like his other nakama, had finally returned to this place after a very, very long search. Every single Straw Hat had gathered here, except for one. Until now.

The other pieces were already reassembled. Together, they formed seven and a half feet of an unfinished skeleton. His cravat was freshly pressed and ruffled, the black suit cleaned spotless, and he sat with one leg crossed over the other. The newly sharpened sword cane had been placed in his bony hands.

"This is it," said Franky, lifting the one final piece out of the box in his hands. "He's definitely real this time."

Because one after another, they had been forced to seek out countless fakes, snuff out every rumour of every pirate who wanted quick beli, claiming to have the real thing. There was only one skull they wanted, and no one had ever delivered until today.

A skull that would be smiling as brightly as this one, even after a quarter-century of unimaginable hardship.

"What if..." Usopp's voice was trembling, and for a brave warrior of the sea, this was rare for him. "What if he's not still..."

"Shut up, needle nose," Zoro interrupted him, and for once the sniper listened.

As one, they held their breath—all but Luffy, who was laughing at all the skull jokes he remembered, and laughing because one minute from now, he could be hearing more.

They let Franky do this. Franky had been the one out of them all who carried with him the worst of their memories. The memory of witnessing. Watching the skeleton being pulled apart by another man's Devil Fruit powers, staring as the pieces scattered across the city, where they would be picked up and lost for decades.

This very city, where they had once lost one of their nakama to a long-ago defeated enemy.

There were definitely not tears streaming down his face, or snot gushing from his nose as Franky reached out. He wasn't crying when he put the skull down on top of the skeleton's shoulders. He wasn't on the verge of bawling as he stepped back, looking for the first time in ages at his friend put back together in one piece.

But maybe he did start to cry, a little bit, when the concert they expected after all this time stretched into a wretched silence. One minute felt like one millennium. Was it too much to hope for, after all?

Luffy's stupid grin was clearly powered by something otherworldly. Even though his body had grown and changed, that grin under that old, old straw hat was exactly the same as it had been two decades ago when they found one their musician's hands in a herb trader's tent.

It didn't fall now, either. That grin could make someone evil turn good. It could bring the dead back to life.

It took one or two moments, but the skeleton in their midst suddenly made a sound. One single breath, like a resurfacing gasp. It was like a ghostly presence had spilled out from within the missing skull and reattached itself to every soul within a hundred yards.

Brook turned his head slowly to look up at the (okay, okay, definitely crying) cyborg, and his teeth parted to speak one, awestruck word.

"F-Franky-san?"


	9. Memories

AN: It's finally Robin's turn. Unless people want more, this is the final chapter (yes, I know it's the shortest one). Don't be afraid to leave a review; I'd appreciate knowing if this hits the happy/sad spot. If you wish for more Brook + Straw Hats, that would be a good reason to drop a review!

* * *

_**Chapter Nine: Memories**_

_Setting: Post Punk Hazard (manga timeline, but no spoilers at all)  
_

_Characters: Brook, Robin, All Straw Hats  
_

_Warnings: Lame jokes._

* * *

"So you see, the flag blew into Kome-san's face and tipped him overboard. Ah, but Laboon saved him just in time, yohoho!"

A dry, sunny day while cruising between one island and another. Zoro was sawing logs over on the grass, unfettered by the wind or the sound of his nakamas' conversing voices. Robin had come out of her library in search of fresh air, but ended up finding herself ambushed by Brook, who had spent the better part of an hour talking non-stop.

At first, she attempted to make an excuse to avoid it; her skeletal friend's stories were more often rife with perverted jokes, and it was not a good day to deal with them. Even so, he launched into a story about his dead crew mates. It was so unexpected, and her heart was chained, because she could not try to silence him now. To her knowledge, Brook had not spoken about his previous life to this extent since they first encountered him in the Florian Triangle. So Robin sat on the wooden railing, bare feet pointed to the waves, and did nothing but listen attentively.

He painted a lively picture with his words, regaling events as though they had happened yesterday. How often had he stood in the dark, foggy void and spoken these stories out loud, she wondered. How many ghosts had come to visit him, listen to the tales, and leave again?

Then all of a sudden, he stopped and stared silently across the open sea.

He had run out of crew mates. No more nakama.

"You forgot one," Robin said, speaking for the first time since he began. "What was your captain like, Brook?"

"Laboon," he replied, as if not hearing her voice. "He grew so fast! I wish you had been with Luffy-san when he encountered him at the Red Line. You would have been impressed."

"I will get to meet him when he finds you." She smiled a little, even knowing he couldn't see her face with his back turned. "What about your captain?"

"Thank you, Robin-san. I didn't intend to rattle on—though I am all bones, and cannot help but rattle! Yohohoho!" Brook hooked his cane over one arm and turned to leave in a hurry.

An arm shot out from the wooden railing and grabbed the skeleton's arm. Robin slowly opened her eyes and stared at him without mercy. Her real arms were crossed over he chest, a sign that she wasn't letting go until she got an answer.

Brook sighed, though he did not need to. "Captain Yorki enjoyed ballads the most. I used to make fun of him because of it. He was deathly terrified of silence."

Robin's gaze softened, and she couldn't speak, for fear it might damage the memory he had just conjured. She had been the one to pressure him into it, though she instinctively knew that it had to be said. There was a war going on between his selfless nature and that rebellious part of his mind that housed the last of his sanity.

"What was his favourite food?"

The voice came from the second deck, just outside the kitchen door. It was Sanji, standing at the railing, pinching the cigarette in his mouth.

Brook stood in shock, mouth open and unable to speak.

"Oi, idiot skeleton, I asked you a question. What was Yorki's favourite meal?"

The 'idiot skeleton' managed to tell him it was octopus calamari, struck motionless and bewildered.

Sanji drew from his smoke, then turned his head to bark, "Usopp! Get the octopus out of the tank for dinner! "

Without a word, the cook turned and went back into the kitchen.

"Yosh! It's decided!" Luffy, who had been hanging upside-down from the ropes overhead (for the better part of thirty minutes now), stretched his arms out and grinned. "Today is Captain Yorki Day! We eat nothing but octopus ballads and sing Bink's Sake!"

"You can't eat a ballad! Seriously..." Nami crossed her arms and sighed, appearing where Sanji had been standing just moments before. "How much of that were you really listening to?"

"Shut up! I'm the captain! It's my decision."

"You can't just decide something and make it possible!"

One by one, the Straw Hat crew stood up, woke up, or came out of hiding, revealing that they had been listening to Brook's storytelling moment all along. Zoro opened his eye and began to complain that they were being too loud, and he preferred Brook's rattling. Chopper danced down the steps and out onto the lawn, teary-eyed. Under the din and chaos, Robin's smile grew ever so slightly as she met Brook's astonished gaze.

"I haven't heard a ballad in a long time. They're old-fashioned now and you don't hear them anymore. Could you sing one for us, Brook?"

The skeleton let in a sharp intake of breath. As the sound of his nakama arguing over how to best execute the Captain Yorki holiday drifted to him, the spirit of a smile came over his non-existent face.

"Hai, Robin-san. I shall."

_"Brook, did you ever hear the ballad of the Three-Fingered Goldfish?"_

_ "No, I have not, but...Captain Yorki, since goldfish don't have any fingers, can that really be a ballad?"_

_ "Ehhh? They don't? Then where do fish fingers come from? Puh-pii-pi-pi!"_


	10. Consequence

**_Chapter Ten: Consequence_**

_Characters: Luffy, Brook_

_Warnings: Not a happy chapter._

* * *

"Luffy-san, shouldn't we be heading back to Lion-chan now?"

He should have known by that tone of voice that he'd best listen to Brook. There was something crazy but useful about having a soul like his. Lie detector? That was Brook. Danger sensor? That was Brook. Brook liked to make jokes, and Luffy loved jokes. Technically, no one was a better match for a treasure hunting partner than his skeleton nakama, except maybe Usopp, because Usopp wouldn't be trying to talk him out of it. Not that Luffy cared about finding the treasure. He just wanted to find out if something cool was guarding it that he could beat up.

This expedition started this morning at the bar, shortly after he found a rolled up hand-drawn map inside his straw hat. Instead of heading back to the ship, he'd decided the others wouldn't mind waiting for him if he came back with lots of gold and monster meat for dinner.

"Yosh! Let's go that way!" Clenching the map in one fist, the young Straw Hat captain charged down the beach towards a towering rock figure.

The beach was under a heavy grey sky and a misty rain dampened the sand underfoot, making the salty sea air almost frigid. It caused his red shirt to cling to his body and his skin to shiver, but since he knew it wouldn't bother Brook, he didn't mind it as much.

When his musician finally caught up, Brook craned his skull back to look at the impossibly tall spire of stone, jaw agape. "What a strange sight in such a place!" he remarked, and with less enthusiasm than usual, added, "Though I have no eyes to see it, as a skeleton."

"Shishishi," Luffy laughed through a grin brimming with adventure. Then he drew his arm back, ready to launch it skyward. "Let's go up! I want to see what's up top!"

"But the map says the treasure is located at the bottom, captain," Brook remarked, and pointed down at the surface of the soggy paper with a bony finger. Confused, Luffy looked down at his hands only to realize that he'd been robbed of his directions, proving again that Brook's speed wasn't only limited to fighting and running.

This was very disappointing. Luffy tried not to frown, but he did. He _had_ to. "That's a stupid place to put treasure. It's too easy to find. There's no monster guarding it, either. Let's go home."

As he turned to leave, he heard Brook inhale a long, surprised gasp, and it made him stop. His nakama was pointing straight ahead, proclaiming, "I think I see the treasure, Luffy-san! There is something gold sticking out of the sand right over there!"

Luffy's interest perked. Gold? Real gold? Nami liked gold, and Nami was going to hit him for not going back when he was supposed to. Maybe if he brought her some gold, she wouldn't hit so hard. Sniffing, he turned around and punched a fist into his open palm. "Yosh. Let's go!"

His skeleton nakama remained very near as they approached to the golden object in the ground. The visible part of the prize was triangular, but it didn't gleam like normal gold. Luffy squatted down next to it as Brook stood above him protectively, and the captain began to scoop away, uncovering their long-awaited treasure.

With a final tug, Luffy wrenched it free of the sand.

"Whoa-hooo!" he cried in delight, holding the object at arms' length. "How did this get here? Do you think Sogeking left it for us? He's so cool!" How weird, he was only answered with silence. "Oi, Brook?"

Brook's eye sockets were fixed on the golden mask in his captain's hands. He was quieter than death, and his hands trembled as he stood frozen in place. The map floated to the ground, forgotten.

"No, Luffy-san!" Brook cried in alarm. He took a step towards his captain, pulling the sword from his sheathe.

It was not long after Luffy he saw the bone in his nakama's face shatter into pieces that he heard a noise like a crack of thunder. Brook fell in a graceful arc, in mid-stride, and his sword-cane made a soft dent in the sand as it landed. Then the sound reached Luffy's ears, and he finally felt the sting of pain in his right arm. Hot and paralyzing, but felt like nothing at all when the other kind of pain hit him.

The mask dropped from his hands, and the wind pick up the map, slapping it against the face of Sogeking, clinging and trembling in the mist. Luffy's hand slipped away from the hole in his arm, covered in blood. It was impossible, he decided. He couldn't be shot. Brook couldn't die; he was already dead.

In spite of his belief, his strength continued to bleed from him anyway. After he collapsed to his elbows and knees, he saw with blurred vision the impossible come true.

A big, black Marine's boot stomped on the remains of Brook's skull, flattening Luffy's heart beneath it. Heat poured out of the seastone wound, and also from of his eyes in a different liquid form. He reached up and seized the barrel of the rifle aimed at him, a weak and trivial act of defiance fueled by the rage and grief of loss.

"Vice-Admiral Garp wants us to keep you alive," said the Marine lieutenant derisively. "Within an inch of your life, he said. Thanks to your pal Sogeking and your brazen, naive recklessness, I'm about to become a Vice-Admiral myself."

"Won't..." Luffy tried to close his fingers, but dropped to the sand again, swallowing the raw anger. "I won't...forgive you..."

"Be quiet, you insolent brat," growled the Marine, and prepared to strike him down with the end of his rifle.

Then his sneer split into a wide-mouthed 'O' of shock as a chill unlike any other fused his fingers to the trigger. An otherworldly kind of ice crystallized around his blue-tinged hands, his feet, turning the beach into stalagmites of frozen sand and rain. Even the mist became tiny pellets of ice, madly swirling around Luffy and Marine threatening his dream. The handful of Marine grunts who had left their hiding spots backed away from the growing blizzard in terror.

"You will not speak to my captain in such an unkind manner!" rasped the disembodied, but undeniable sound of Brook's voice on the wind. "And it is very rude to step on someone's face, even if they are already dead! Yohohohoho!"

As the laugh lifted to a crescendo, so did the tornado of ice and the chill of the afterlife. The lieutenant's skin turned from blue to bone white, until even his eyes had frozen solid inside their sockets. That sent every last Marine present running and screaming, abandoning Luffy in the middle the sub-zero storm of energy.

It was pleasant. He wasn't cold, but warm, wrapped in a song that forced a smile onto his lips. The others eventually found him this way, lying flat on a stretch of soft sand in the midst of a frozen wasteland. With each puff of vapor in a shaky, weary voice, Luffy sang the words to Bink's Sake to stay conscious and sane.

_If you lose your nerve this breath could be your last._  
_But if you just hold on, the morning sun will rise!_

They couldn't heard Brook singing with him, but that was okay. If Brook could wait fifty years just to see his nakama again, then so could the Pirate King.

* * *

**AN:** I know. It's not that I'm cruel, but I thought the theme of Luffy's recklessness having terrible consequences was something not often touched upon. At least, not so directly. Obviously, this chapter only makes sense if you've read Usopp and Brook's chapter. If you haven't, go back and do so-you'll get it then.

Next one will be Chopper's or Sanji's. Still deciding.


	11. Stars, Smoke, Liar

AN: It's my birthday today! So in reverse of the normal tradition, here's a gift from me to you. Know what you can do in return? Reviews! Do it for a poor lady who's more than halfway to 30 now.

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**_Chapter Eleven: Stars, Smoke, Liar_**

_Characters: Sanji, Brook_

_Setting: At this point, let's just assume these all take place post-timeskip unless otherwise specified._

_Warnings: THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED_

* * *

There was no quieter time than when Sunny was moored. Her crew had gone ashore, with the exception of her volunteer protector, Brook. Also, because no one ever willingly left Brook alone, someone else had remained behind to help out.

The cool, crisp air outside made the wooden walls and floorboards seem to radiate warmth. Sanji, up to his elbows in dirty dishwater, thought about the peaceful quality of the night and its counterpart, the eerie silence. Even Sunny seemed to creak and moan a little more to fill the void. Where was that damn skeleton and all of his signature noise?

As if summoned, the door to the kitchen opened. Brook stepped in, accompanied by a rush of cold air. Sanji dried his hands off on a towel before turning to him.

"There you are. Where have you been?"

"I was enjoying the stars," said the skeleton. "Ah, did you need help with the dishes?"

"It's fine. You're telling me you spent the past three hours star-gazing?"

Brook was silent for a moment, and the uncomfortable moment stretched until Sanji waved it off. "Forget it. I like stars, too. You coming in for the night, or you want me to make a cup of tea and join you outside?"

"You would look at the stars with me?" The idea seemed to shock Brook so much that his lower leg bones rattled, his jaw hanging open by a fraction.

"Is that so surprising? They're just stars. Do you want the tea or not?"

That seemed to shake the musician out of his dazzled state. "Yes, I do. Thank you very much, Sanji-san."

Brook then proceeded to stand patiently next to the door, staring at the blonde cook as he put on the kettle. The awkward staring continued until Sanji barked at him to go wait outside, and after a stumbling apology, the skeleton left him for the lower deck.

The blonde mused to himself as he went to get the tea bags, with irritation prickling at his spine. Seriously, what was with this damn skeletons moods? One moment, he was bouncing all over the place, never knowing when to shut up. The next he acted like a wet-behind-the-ears cook, fumbling all over the place and not knowing what to do with himself in someone else's kitchen. There was never an in-between setting.

Sanji arranged the tea. When he finally stepped outside, a breeze slammed into him, rattling the spoons on the tray and drawing the attention of a very attentive musician. Ignoring the cold, the cook crossed the lawn to where his nakama stood, wordlessly handing over a steaming porcelain teacup.

Thought he wasn't much of a tea person himself, he decided that if he was going to half-freeze in near-winter weather, at least he could drink something hot. They each took a sip, swallowed in the chilling effect of the immense spread of twinkling lights overhead.

"The tea is delicious, as always," Brook remarked, apparently over his silent phase.

"Yep."

"Sanji-san, may I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"Why are you still here?"

There it was—that creepy soul-reading tone of voice, the over-analytical worry overpowering the calmness of the moment. The urge to kick him was overwhelming, but then, he also wanted to smile just a tiny bit. There wasn't a bad bone in Brook's body, and considering bones were his only ingredient, that was a pretty accomplishment.

"I told you already. I had a lot of cleaning to get finished." he replied, setting down his cup to reach for his smokes. As the orange flame from his lighter illuminated the skeleton's skull, he noticed Brook's slight jerk of his head, the tightening of his bony fingers around his drink. Sanji wasn't as good at this as Robin, but he knew what those meant. "What now? Stop looking at me like I'm gonna die. If there's something bugging you, come out and say it, otherwise I'm going back inside."

To this, strangely, Brook laughed. One of those wistful kinds. The kind that bothered him the most. "So rigorous as always! Yohoho, I really do enjoy that about you, Sanji-san. You and I do not always get along, do we?"

"We would if you stopped trying to see Nami-swan's underwear, you perverted skeleton."

"Ah, I see. We should come to an arrangement, then."

Sanji paused, abandoning the habitual inhalation of smoke to really _look_ at his nakama. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Okay, fine. What do you want?"

"Yohoho, it is quite simple. We each seem to have an addiction that we must conquer, so perhaps we should do so together. If you agree to quit smoking cigarettes, then I will agree to never again request to see a lady's panties."

To be fair, Sanji might have swallowed his cigarette if he hadn't already taken it out of his mouth. After watching Brook watch him for a moment, he leaned forward on the railing and took another drag from his burning smoke. "That's a pretty shitty deal, Brook."

Brook clasped his hands behind his spine and tilted his head back to the stars. "It is incredibly selfish of me, I know. This idea has occurred to me many times. If I am just bones, then will I die an old man? Will I need to say goodbye to my friends one day? If so, then how soon will that be?"

It took a moment for Sanji's eyes to travel from the moonlit sheen of the sea's waves, to the cigarette in his hand, and finally over to Brook's unshielded face. The skeleton was still looking at the night sky, his mind partially lost to another era while his physical form gripped the wooden railing.

Sanji stared placidly at the distorted reflection of the stars for another full minute. Finally, with a sigh, he flicked the half-finished cigarette into the darkness.

"I'll cut back," he said with difficulty, not wanting to lie, to give his nakama false hope with a promise he knew he couldn't keep. "If that means you'll stop asking Nami-swan and Robin-chan for their panties. If you can do that, then we'll talk."

"That is more than enough," said the skeleton, graciously.

"Our tea got cold. Let's go warm it up." Sanji pushed away from the railing, instinctively reaching for another smoke-stopping himself, as he knew he would have to do many times in the near future. "And Brook."

"Yes, Sanji-san?"

"We won't let you be alone again," he lied, and turned away before he could see Brook's reaction.

Some lies were inevitable after all.


End file.
